


If It Bites You It's Venomous

by Calamityjim



Series: Liminal Spaces [10]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, Red Robin (Comics)
Genre: Angst, Bruce Wayne is a Bad Parent, But he's trying, Oops
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-02
Updated: 2020-04-02
Packaged: 2021-03-01 01:42:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23437126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Calamityjim/pseuds/Calamityjim
Summary: Bruce isn't always the perfect parent.
Series: Liminal Spaces [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1414078
Comments: 45
Kudos: 1322





	If It Bites You It's Venomous

“Alright,” Dick said “My vote is Vietnamese. Fifteen-two.”

Jay scoffed, not looking up from his cards. “Indian or bust, man. I wanna get me some biryani. Pair for two.”

The Waynes, at least those who were home, were gathered in a family sitting room. This one had been dubbed the Red Room by Dick due to its blush walls and burgundy accents. The furniture was all royal red leather and included a sofa, a love seat, and a card game table with chairs that were all matching cherry wood. It was well named. 

Bruce was on the couch, paperwork balanced on his knees and “answering emails” on his phone, even though Dick could clearly tell that he was playing a game of some kind. “I agree with Jay. It’s an evening for biryani and paneer.” 

They didn’t often get takeout. Alfred took the suggestion of such as a personal attack but he’d taken the week off and traveled to England to visit friends. There were premade meals in the freezer and the expectation that they would be eaten, but Bruce had decided one night of delivery wouldn’t be noticed. 

“Tim? Cass?”

“Thirty-one for two,” Tim said, pegging the points. Dick shouldn’t have been surprised that Tim was absolutely vicious at crib, but it was nice that there was finally someone who could beat Jay. Dick got skunked every game. “Vietnamese sounds good.”

Cass was sitting behind Tim, her chair scooted up close and leaning so she rested her chin on his shoulder as she carefully watched the game unfold. “Food,” she said simply. 

“Alright. We’re tied. Dami? What do you think?” There was absolute silence. Dick looked away from the game, searching the room to see if Dami had left while he wasn’t paying attention but no, the boy was still trying to lure Dexter out from under the couch. Tim had definitely adopted the angriest animal on the planet and for some reason Dami had taken it upon himself to try and tame the creature. “Dami, what do you want to eat?” Again, Dick was met with silence and it took every ounce of patience to not crumple the card he was holding in his hand. He had no idea what he had done to the boy and Dami wouldn’t give him an explanation or an inch.  
  


Dick was at his wit’s end.  
  


Apparently, so was Bruce. “That’s it,” Bruce snapped in one of the sharpest tones Dick had ever heard him take with his children. He stood and tossed his paperwork and phone to the other side of the couch. “Tim, Jay, Cass. Out.” 

Dick was fairly certain that Bruce didn’t notice how Tim had paled, but given by his small parting nod, Jay had, and Cass seemed to notice everything so Tim was in good hands while this was being sorted. Added to that, Dexter bolted through the door as it was closing and if Dick could say one thing about the irate beast, it was that he provided Tim with comfort. 

“Richard. Damian. Stand here.” Bruce pointed in front of him and Dick hopped to it. It had been years since he’d heard his full first name fall from Bruce’s lips. Dami looked both wary and confused and Dick realized this was probably the first time he’d faced any kind of discipline from Bruce. Well, it was going to happen eventually. 

Bruce stood, arms crossed in front as he stared down at his children in a way that still made Dick feel half Bruce’s height. Dami lifted his chin defiantly, but Dick could tell he wasn’t unaffected. 

“We’re done with this. Dami, you are obviously having a problem with Dick. We are not leaving this room until this issue is resolved.” Oh no.  
  
Dami scoffed.

Bruce stared Dami down, an expression that was usually elicited by Jay, though Dick had managed to pull it out on a few occasions, usually involving broken chandeliers or running rogue missions. “I don’t think you understand. We are not leaving. If you get thirsty, Jay will bring us water. If you get hungry, Jay will bring us food. If you need to use the washroom, I will escort you. If you need sleep, there is the couch or the floor. 

“But you aren’t leaving. I don’t care if it takes you hours, or if it takes all year. We _are_ resolving this.”

“You’re bluffing,” Dami accused.

“Dick,” Bruce said sharply, “am I bluffing?” 

Dick sighed. “No.” Bruce had done this once before, when Jay had first come and he and Dick had constantly antagonized each other. He’d locked them in a suite with an attached bathroom and had left the pair there until Dick and Jay had bonded over being aggrieved with Bruce. 

It was the first thing Dick and Jay had ever agreed on and had started their beautiful brothership. 

Dami crossed his arms and frowned back, like a miniature mirror of Bruce. “I was trained at the age of four to resist interrogation.” 

Bruce uncrossed his arms so he could kneel in front of Dami and stare him in the eyes. “I’m Batman.”

Dami snarled. “Grayson knows what he did wrong.”

Dick sighed and cast his gaze to the ceiling before looking back down at Dami. “I don’t know, Dami. I have no idea. If I knew I would have apologized by now and tried to have made it up to you.”

“Tt. Then you are a fool.”

“Dami,” Bruce said softly, taking both of the boy’s small hands in his, “part of being a family is explaining our feelings so we can work together to protect our relationships. Now, tell me why you are angry with Dick.”

Dami sent a glare at Dick, before meeting Bruce’s gaze. A slight tremble of the lips was the only warning before Dami burst into huge, heaving sobs. “He was- he was going to k-kill Timothy. And Grayson!”

Bruce drew Dami into a hug, stroking his hair. “Who was going to kill Tim, Dami? And what does it have to do with Dick?”

“Timothy was going to just l-l-let him kill him! He was just going to- And Grayson knew! He knew and he n-never-!”

Oh. Oh crap.

“Dick?” There was an edge to Bruce’s voice which meant that he’d noticed Dick’s growing realization.

Dick dropped his eyes to the floor and tucked his hands into his pocket. He took a deep breath and stared Bruce in the eyes, squaring his shoulders. “If I told you everything that Tim’s been through then Tim would stop telling me. I’ve encouraged him to approach you or Dinah, but I’m not going to spill what I’ve been entrusted with.”

Bruce sighed and stroked Dami’s hair and the boy’s sobs eased but did not stop. “Well, it's too late on this one. Tell me what happened.”

Dick didn’t know what happened. He didn’t know who they’d all met in the alternate universe, what the Tim from the future had let spill. He didn’t know how much Dami knew. Was Dami talking about Ra’s kicking Tim through a window or the Red Hood shooting Tim in a head? Both? Damian trying to kill Tim? Something else that Dick didn’t actually know and Dami assumed he did? 

Ugh. The only way to make this situation better was to make it worse. “Dami? Who is “he”?”

Dami pulled back from Bruce and used his sleeve to wipe his nose, shooting daggers at Dick the entire time. “The Red Hood,” he spat.

Okay. Handleable.

Bruce’s face went carefully blank. “Dami, please go fetch Tim.” Or not. What was Bruce doing?

Dami sniffled and nodded, scurrying out of the room. 

“Bruce-”

“Don’t, Dick,” Bruce said in a carefully controlled voice that always indicated that Bruce was not nearly as in control as he should be. So they stood in a frozen silence and Dick could feel his shoulders turning in on his chest. 

“Bruce,” Tim slid into the room, Dexter being cradled with one arm as the cat rested on Tim’s shoulder. Tim gently closed the door behind him. “Dami said you wanted to see me?” By the end of the sentence Tim’s voice was nearly a squeak. 

“Yes, Tim.” Bruce motioned Tim closer and Tim slowly inched his way forward though he stood awkwardly far away. Out of striking distance, Dick realized. He could tell that Bruce realized it too. “You aren’t in any trouble. We just need to talk.”

“Ah, okay.” Tim bit his lip and didn’t move any closer. “About what?”

Dick could see by the tightness around Bruce’s eyes that he was choosing each word carefully, in the way he did when he was trying to escape trouble with Alfred. “Dami told me something disturbing and I wanted to hear it from you.”

Tim started to nervously stroke Dexter. “Okay? Ah, I mean, sure.” Tim didn’t sound sure at all. 

“Dami indicated that the Red Hood nearly killed you,” there was the subtlest catch in Bruce’s voice and Dick figured the only other person on the planet who would have caught it was Alfred, “and you didn’t fight back.”

“I didn’t have a choice,” Tim said defiantly, squaring his shoulders. “Jay and Dami were in another room and unarmed. I didn’t know if he would kill them if he discovered them and I wasn’t willing to find out.”

What?

_What?_

“You mean it happened _again?_ ” Dick asked, aghast.

Bruce snapped his gaze to Dick. “‘Again’?”

“Thanks, Dick,” Tim hissed. Dexter matched the noise and Tim scratched behind his ears. “It’s okay, Dexter. It’s okay.”

“Enough!” Bruce said in a tone that brooked no argument. “You two are going to sit down and explain everything.”

Tim lifted his chin mulishly. “Dinah says that it’s important not to talk about things until I’m ready.”

“You know as well as I do that self-endangerment isn’t covered by that rule. Now,” Bruce pointed at the couch, “sit.”

Dick flopped onto the couch, slouching as though the furniture would swallow him and save him from this conversation. In contrast, Tim sat down almost regally, back straight and not touching the cushions. Something was going wrong in Tim’s face.

Oh no. 

That was gala face. Tim was going pod person. 

Dick pushed himself up, shooting an alarmed look at Bruce. Darn it, Bruce! Notice!

Bruce did not notice. “Tim. You are going to explain what happened with the Red Hood or I am going to ask Dick and he is going to answer me.” 

“Bruce-” Dick tried to cut in. 

“It’s fine, Dick,” Tim said in a floaty tone. “I don’t mind telling Bruce about the Red Hood. I have no qualms about telling him how the first time I ever met him he slit my throat when I was thirteen.” Tim spoke mildly, as though he was discussing the weather. “Or how he broke into the Titan Tower and beat me into unconsciousness in the basement.” 

“Tim-” 

Tim kept speaking as though he hadn’t heard Bruce. Given his headspace, maybe he hadn’t. “Or do you want to know about the time he tried to stab me in the heart with a batarang? He thought I was dead. I should have been, but you’d been working on a new kevlar, so it shattered the blade instead of allowing it to go straight through.” Dexter began to mewl and Tim scratched under his chin. Dick didn’t know what to do in that moment of silence. To end this or let Tim keep talking? 

“Jason still almost finished me off. He would have put a bullet in my skull if he’d realized I was still alive. Even as it was I still nearly bled to death.” Dexter pressed his cheek into Tim’s. “But I suppose you want Dick to tell you about how the Red Hood was going to shoot me and I was just going to let it happen. That I was going to give into the inevitable.” Tim hummed. “So now you know. The big bad Red Hood’s been trying to kill poor little Timmy for years and when I was back there I was done fighting. There wasn’t really much point in it. I wasn’t going to survive long anyway. 

“And now that you know, what are you going to do, hm?” Tim leaned forward, his tone still airy. “Are you going to go jump over and pick a fight with a man struggling with insanity? Punch him until you feel better? Just like Bruce? What good does this knowledge do you?” He tilted his head and Dexter started to lick his cheek. 

Dick could see Bruce’s regret for pushing Tim written all over his body, but it was far too late for that. The damage was done and Dick had no idea how deep it ran. “I’m sorry that happened to you.”

Tim snorted and Dexter started at the sound, jumping out of Tim’s arms. “You mean you pity me.”

“No,” Bruce shook his head. “I admire you, Tim.”

“I don’t want your admiration,” Tim said pleasantly. “I want you to fuck off. May I be excused?” Tim stood without waiting for a reply, exciting the room with Dexter trailing at his heels. 

Bruce sighed and ran his hand through his hair. “Dick-”

“Don’t even,” Dick warned, standing to chase after Tim.

Searching a house the size of Wayne Manor was an endeavour when looking for an unmoving object. Trying to find a person who didn’t want to be found was nearly impossible, which was why Dick was willing to cheat and checked the cameras. 

Which Tim had hacked. 

Leaving Dick to search the old fashioned way. He tried the cave and the roof first and found nothing. Next came the bedrooms, including Dick and Bruce’s because Tim was clever like that. He wasn’t in the kitchen or the library, or the media room with Jay and Dami. Dick was almost at the point where he was going to call Wally in to search the place, screw what Bruce thought, when Dexter had appeared, sneezing. 

Dick had barely managed to get close enough to the cat before being hit with a distinctive smell and Dick bolted, hoping Tim was still there. 

Sure enough Tim had half buried himself in a pile of blankets Alfred had left to dry on a hook before he’d left.  
  
Instead of saying anything, Dick just snuggled into the pile beside Tim, waiting in silence until the other boy spoke. 

“You told him,” Tim said dully. 

“No,” Dick promised. “Dami found out. It’s why he wasn’t talking to me, because I kept it a secret.” 

Tim stole a glance and Dick could see that his eyes were red and puffy and as much as he wanted to gather Tim in for a hug now wasn’t the best time. 

“He wasn’t supposed to know. I wasn’t ready. I’m still not ready,” Tim whispered, nuzzling deeper into the blankets. 

“We’ll sic Dinah on him,” Dick promised. 

Tim gave a strangled laugh. “If only. She’d be so mad.”

Dick reached out and put a hand in Tim’s hair. “I’m not joking, Tim. This was a pretty serious violation of boundaries and while I think we both know that Bruce feels bad, that’s not enough. He shouldn’t have demanded that either of us tell him. He had no right.”

Tim sat there in a silence that was only punctuated by the sound of their breathing before asking in a small voice, “You really didn’t tell him?”

Dick pressed their foreheads together. “No, I swear I didn’t. I promised I’d be there for you, Tim. That I’d _always_ be there. I’m not going to share your secrets.”

Tim drew in a shaky breath. “Thanks, Dick.”

Now Dick drew Tim into a hug, feeling Tim relax in his arms. “As soon as you’re ready to leave here, we’ll go order Vetnamese. “

“It was a tie,” Tim mumbled into Dick’s chest.

Dick used a hand to slowly stroke the back of Tim’s neck. “They can order what they want. I have a credit card and on it I’m ordering Vietnamese.” In his grip, Tim started to shake. “Hey,” Dick asked gently, “what’s wrong?”

Tim just shook his head against Dick’s chest and Dick bit back a sigh. 

Bruce had really fucked this one up.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> This really got away from me and really wrote itself. I love LS Bruce but he's not perfect. 
> 
> Also, come check out the discord!
> 
> https://discord.gg/RW4uG6R


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